Saucy little roadster

On Saturday I purchased a beautiful new road bike - she's black, with a subtle yet distinctive patch of rainbow tattooed on the main frame, slender and light with a curved bar. Ben just kept staring at her which was a little off-putting. It is a sexy bike. And when on it, I feel sexy.

I had never really considered this a possibility. The speed exhilarating, handle bars low, your back dropped, hands grip tightly onto rubber bound handles, feet held in place and legs spin. You stop at lights and you're up front ahead of the dirty traffic, perched lightly on your saddle, a foot in the pedal, the other just touching the ground. Hand on hip for stability the other stretched forward on the handle bar, the sun is hovering and the warmth spreads under your helmet. Then you're off, those first few pushes work your legs and speed builds quickly. I felt majestic -part human, part machine.

While there was beauty to speak of, there too was pain. Ben's friend joined us, a potential half iron man contender, who set the pace. Ben kept close behind, and I, full of pride, worked hard to maintain my speed. Not only did it hurt, but it got awfully boring at times. Music may well have helped, but I had cars and buses to listen out for.

Arriving home, my bottom was bruised and my limbs began to ache deeply - exhausted and unable to move we ordered take out and consoled ourselves with it on the sofa. That was about 4 hours riding time, with frequent breaks on flat land.

Need to up the ante in the next two weeks or there might be trouble ahead.